Member-only story
Poetry | Healing | Personal Growth
Visceral Aura
A poem
Sick
I woke up with an ache in my tummy
A kick
A pressure strong enough to disturb nearly every piece inside of me determined to erupt,
determined to come up and out
of me.
“Go through, Maquita. I got you,” I said to me.
I learned to love myself more deeply.
I rubbed the back of my neck and listened as my intestines, my stomach, and my heart sermonized in symphony.
Is this what healing — -
another gut-punch.
I’m healing.
I’m hearing.
I prayed to God to deliver me again
as I give birth to me,
again.
Deliver me through this anguish,
relieve me of this pain!
“It’s okay baby,” I speak over myself again.
I rub my belly.
I allowed myself to sit in my pain and I began to recall that horrible accident.
The one where my family escaped physically unharmed, the one where I escaped with only a broken arm,
somehow my ribs remained…
